I remember my cursor
over the hyperlink that read top ten countries with the most beautiful Women

Stubby fingers at the screen
Hair dark
Chestnut eyes
Monolid gaze

And number ten was somewhere in europe
Nine eight
Seven six
Five four

Three

two

I cross my fingers
I twirl my hair

Slick from too much conditioner 

ONE: AMERICA

I ask my mom in
mandarin

我也是美国人吗？
(am i also American?)

“Maybe you will be,” she says. / Wistful. / Because maybe I will become what she never was.

I peer into the mirror and pick at my nose and eyes
Comb through my coal hair
And I realize
I was always caught on the in between
But I’ll never quite be either
I breathe onto the mirror and in the fog I write
我漂亮吗？
(am i beautiful?)

你是。